


Dead End

by seethemonte



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seethemonte/pseuds/seethemonte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that was how he met Adam Lambert. He had the look and the chops but he was so quiet. Socially inept or not, Tommy needed a singer and he picked Adam. Even if he hated his guts from the start, everyone had told him he was good. But Tommy had a feeling about Adam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead End

Just another seedy underground bar he had performed at hundreds of other times before. Tommy had already checked out the crowd briefly minutes earlier, and nothing but a few shits wearing as much makeup as he. He had thought there would be more of a following after two months of playing shows four times a week, but being a cover bands don’t get that kind of recognition in these parts. Why they couldn’t write their own songs was beyond him, but Adam said no. The guy was high off his ass more than half the time but it’s not like he could march in and take control. Singers were, and will always be, divas.

Two and a half months ago while in one of his frequent drunken stupors, the brilliant epiphany had come to him at three in the morning. Who needed relationships, really? All they did was break your heart and fuck you up. Mindless sex was the way to go. Nobody gets hurt, and nobody expects anything else. And what better way to get some than starting a band? It wasn’t his first, and it certainly won’t be the last but he knew a few people who’d be interested. And so he formed a band.

He knew no singers, he hated singers. Changing the key of the song because they can’t sing for shit, whining because their voice hurts constantly and excusing themselves because of this mystical sore throat they consistently have. He didn’t think his band needed a singer, but he finally succumbed to nobody would listen to them if they were simply an instrumental cover band. He had decided to hold open auditions to pick somebody out of the haze of crazy 70s fashion. He thought everyone looked the same, and none of them were attractive. Half of them were Bowie impersonators and he couldn’t stand Bowie. Yes, the one guy who hated Bowie. Surprise, surprise. Tommy hated everyone, actually. He was an ungrateful bitch but he owned it. The music was all that he liked.

And that was how he met Adam Lambert. He had the look and the chops but he was so quiet. Socially inept or not, Tommy needed a singer and he picked Adam. Even if he hated his guts from the start, everyone had told him he was good. But Tommy had a feeling about Adam.

“I’m straight but I’m open minded,” Adam said softly when Tommy stumbled upon a magnificent makeup chest.

“I see,” Tommy muttered. “I’m gay but I’m narrow minded.” Adam stood there slightly dumbfounded, not sure how to connect with this Tommy guy. He sort of hated him, but Adam was too feeble to ever hate somebody.

The gigs were nothing short of pleasant. Adam was too humble for Tommy’s liking, and Tommy was a cunt to everybody else. Everyone threw their glittery little selves at Adam the God, girls and boys alike. He would politely turn down the boys and blow off the girls. The leftovers would come stumbling over to Tommy and he’d take the pretty boys back home. Nobody else cared for the music, in some of the bars the set was stopped midway through because one of the band would just stop playing to pick up somebody they’d been eyeing in the crowd. The rest of them would frown, but eventually find somebody to bring home. But not Adam. He would stay at the bar, daintily sipping on his drink talking to people. Who the hell did that? This was the underground scene, you lived to fuck here.

Tommy’s dislike for Adam grew one day when he offered to buy him a drink. Did that little fuck really think Tommy needed courtesy? If you were wondering, no, he did not. He would rather Adam be a bigger bitch to him back. It was no fun when he just took the insults and looks without any kind of retort. Adam was weak, Tommy sensed that and he pounced on it. But Adam didn’t even try to stand up for himself. He would never make it, and too bad. He had talent. Tommy had learned early on that if you wanted to try and make it you had to be cold and heartless.

“Will you teach me to play your bass?” Adam asked, grimy fingers already all over the neck and body.

“And who the fuck said you could touch that?” Tommy hissed, grabbing the instrument away from Adam.

“I thought band members trusted each other?” Adam said with a tiny voice.

“And who says? How old are you anyways? Five?” Tommy grumbled, checking over his precious for any fingerprints and scratches. It looked okay, but why not make the kid feel a little grief?

“I’m twenty,” Adam said.

“Twenty? You’re twenty. Wow, good job, you have a sense of humor.” Tommy said.

“No I really am twenty.”

“Yes, and the sky is green.”

Tommy believed him now, and couldn’t deny feeling a little superior now that he was seven years his senior. He should have known that was why Adam was so naïve.

Something was up with Adam, Tommy could tell. And what he means by ‘up’ is he could pin him up against a wall and fuck him and Adam wouldn’t mind whatsoever. This he had officially decided the night prior when Adam got all shy and giggly around some other guy (which Tommy had so kindly taken behind the building later on). Shortly after, he had the sinful thought of taking out on those actions. Only sinful because he hated Adam. But it was just sex. Everybody loved sex and he needed to show Adam a good time. And so in the back of his mind, he kept that thought lingering if the chance ever came up.

Which it did, a week later after the gig. The club was crowded and foggy and only did the light ever catch on somebody’s glittery eyeshadow occasionally. Adam was sitting alone with a drink. Tommy had decided to stay sober for the night so he’d remember this. Whether or not he’d regret that, he just decided he would regret it and hate himself anyways so it didn’t matter. He approached Adam, smirking slightly with his dark lips.

“Adam,” he fluttered his eyelashes.

“Oh, hey,” Adam sounded flat and lifeless for once. Tommy was taken aback, expecting some terrified tiny voice to come out him like usual. But Adam didn’t give a fuck.

“I was thinking…” Tommy began. He needn’t say more before Adam gave him that horrified look he was waiting for. Success. Tommy stood up, grabbed Adam’s wrist tighter than he’d ever imagined and dragged him to the back. “Now, this isn’t technically legal,” he said pushing the back door open. “but you drinking isn’t either.”

Adam couldn’t see anything this far back, only the reflection of street lights in far away puddles. Tommy pressed him up in the corner and he could feel dampness all over, a humid air sinking down on him. There was a rank scent coming from everywhere but all thought was stymied when he felt hands on his belt buckle. His muscles froze and he couldn’t move.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. Tommy unlatched the belt.

“What you asked for,” Tommy answered nonchalantly and threw the belt aside, sliding Adam’s jacket off.

“Which is?” Adam asked.

“Are you that stupid?” Tommy pulled away, angry. Adam frowned.

Tommy slowly undressed Adam and then himself, and when that was done, he kissed Adam. Adam gasped, and even though Tommy was virtually blind, he could sense the confusion radiating off of Adam. Tommy rolled his eyes and kissed Adam again in the darkness, this time keeping their lips locked. It wasn’t long until Adam succumbed and let Tommy’s tongue roam his mouth. Tommy was surprised when Adam’s arms locked around Tommy’s back and they were making out in nothing more than boxers in the back of this alley. It felt somehow awkward but more so hot. He didn’t know Adam was this easy.

“I’m not a virgin,” Adam pulled away.

“I figured, with an ass like that,” Tommy growled.

He reached for Adam’s junk and was shocked. For being so shy and weak, the guy certainly had a nice package. He grinned and pulled down both their boxers, grabbing for Adam’s dick. Adam muttered something encouraging into Tommy’s hair. He didn’t need encouragement, but it was nice. He lubed up his own dick with his spit and because safe sex wasn’t actually advised by anybody, he thrust in. Adam gasped. He felt like he was going to snap in two and that Tommy should get his dick out of there right now. His thoughts were met when Tommy thrust out and it felt good, but then he pounded back in. Tommy was breathing heavy and grunting about how good Adam felt. Adam finally let loose and Tommy’s insistent pounding felt fucking amazing suddenly. He sucked on Tommy’s neck to avoid screaming out loud. Here, everybody had hickies. It was a sign of how good they were in bed (or alley in this case). And while some decided to cover them up, Tommy didn’t mind.

“Gonna come,” Tommy breathed out a warning and Adam nodded. He felt Tommy’s release inside and instantly came after him. Tommy pulled out and collapsed on Adam’s chest. He finally didn’t mind that he hated Adam. Right now, he could stand Adam. Adam grinned, the brick wall behind him the only reason he wasn’t falling all over himself. Tommy finally regained himself, put on his clothes as quick as he could and left. Adam eventually did the same, wanting to find Tommy. Who just had sex like that and left? Adam searched the club low and high but Tommy wasn’t there.

At the next band practice, Tommy was back to being a complete bitch. Adam figured that night would never be discussed again in ever’s forever’s eternity. This time, Tommy didn’t even mention how annoying Adam was. Which was actually bad, because Tommy was now completely ignoring Adam. When everyone had packed up their things and left, Adam stopped Tommy at the door. He was going to try to take charge and ask Tommy what the hell was his problem, but he didn’t need to.

“I do regret it. So don’t talk to me ever again. I talked to the guys, I’m leaving the band. It wasn’t working out anyways.” Tommy deadpanned. He was about to leave, when he said something else. “Also, you might as well just come out of the closet because it’s stupid.”

Adam stood there a moment, silent. And just before the door clicked shut, Tommy rushed back in and pecked Adam on the cheek. Then he really left.


End file.
